Page 109 of Where the Wind Whispers

The baby, the baby, the baby.

Took my baby.

The voicemail cut off, and the call dropped.

Violet’s tears flowed freely as the phone sat in her hands. She had never felt more useless in those moments—never more incapable.

But there might be one thing she could do.

Maybe.

Violet wiped her tears away and turned on the phone again. She dialed a number that she hadn’t willingly called in longer than she could remember.

She sucked in a deep breath, willing the shakiness from her tone to leave so she could speak.

Unsurprisingly, the call went to voicemail.

The familiar voice spoke his message to the caller. “Alberto Gallucci.”

That was all his voicemail had ever said.

When it beeped, Violet started talking.

“Her name is Anastasya Liliya Markovic.”

And she kept talking.

Even when the voicemail time ended and she had to call back.

Five messages, then six.

Eight.

Nine.

Every moment of her daughter’s life from the second she’d taken her first breath to the moment she was taken away.

The most private moments, and the cutest seconds.

The struggles, the exhaustion, and the laughter.

Things she didn’t think her father deserved to know.

Things he could have been a part of had he just loved her enough.

Things he missed.

Things that proved her daughter was human.

Beautifully innocent, so entirely loved, and human.

Alberto Gallucci

“And he loves her, so much …”

Alberto Gallucci reached over and hit the pause button on the phone, hearing footsteps just outside his office. A knock on the door came as soon as the footsteps stopped.

“Enter,” he said, resting back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.